


Stick and Stones Will Heal No Bones, But Words Can Sometimes Save Me

by Nightmaresdreaming



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Angst, Angst and Humor, Dorks, F/M, Female Frisk, Hurt/Comfort, Skeletons, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-05-12 05:36:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5654392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightmaresdreaming/pseuds/Nightmaresdreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Frisk. </p>
<p>You fell down into a world of monsters where everyone is hateful and sad and the only one who seems to be on your side is this flower you're toting around. </p>
<p>But you'll help them make things better.</p>
<p>After all, you are a determined woman.</p>
<p>Underfell AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Friends Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings, and welcome to my humble fanfiction. In which I own absolutely nothing but the mediocre writing that is contained. Toby owns everything else. I can't find the origin of Underfell however, so if anyone knows you are welcome to comment.
> 
> I am willing to receive any criticism, comments, questions, and/or concerns. Don't go 'GOD YOU SUCK,' even though I will still be mature about the situation by responding with 'NO U.'
> 
> Okay.
> 
> Okay, good.
> 
> Let's do this.

Wake up

Your eyelids flutter open as you come to. Your gaze meets the ceiling of what looks like a cave. You sigh and try to rub the sleep out of your eyes as you sit up. You probably slipped and fell in that cave you entered. At least, that’s what you think until your fingers brush against something soft. You look down in slight surprise at the patch of yellow flowers you are currently sitting in. You stand up, careful not to harm the flowers anymore than you already have, and hop out of the patch. You wonder how these flowers are able to grow without any light, you should ask the locals about it when you get out of this. . . . Dead end.

“What?” You say out loud to yourself. You do a complete 360 of the area to confirm that there is indeed, only one tunnel. You highly doubt you fell all the way to the end of the cave system. Did someone carry you? . . . . . . Were you kidnapped? 

You immediately become anxious. You’ve taken self defense classes for women at the beginning of high school (which you failed), but you cannot recall if they said what to do after you were kidnapped. They either said to stay calm and leave the area as quickly as possible to find help, or they said to panic. You’re pretty sure they said to panic. Yeah, panicking seems legit. Panicking, speed walking, and dry heaving down the tunnel. You’ve got class. You slow down when you come upon a doorway. Are there ruins here? Nobody said anything about ruins. Are you still at Mount Ebott? 

You break into a light jog as you pass through the doorway. You will figure everything out later, for now just focus on getting out. You come upon another flower patch, with a single large flower in the middle. Its petals are torn, its stem is bent, and somebody thought it would be funny to draw a smiley face on it. It actually looks like it’s looking at you. You decide to walk around it.

“Howdy!”

A surprised, strangled yell escapes your throat as you spin around. You don’t see anyone around, but you know you heard someone.

“Down here buddy!”

You slowly look down at the flower, who is grinning up at you. 

“Golly,” He said with a smile, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Flowey, Flowey the flower.” The flower is talking. Are you dreaming? You look down to confirm that you are still wearing pants, or overalls in your case, so you’re not sleeping. You spend most of your dreams without pants, it makes you worry for your psyche. “Are you okay partner?”

“Yeah,” You laugh as you sit down in front of him and curl in a ball. “Just…. just losing my mind.” Flowey watches you have a nervous breakdown. You take deep breaths, hoping to calm yourself down. It works, but only a little. Flowey is silent as calm yourself down. “What are you?” Your sudden question causes a slight shift in Flowey’s demeanor. His smile remains, but becomes more strained. 

“What am I?” He repeats. It almost seems like he doesn’t know the answer himself. He starts to tremble slightly and you then realize that you said something very wrong. You need to fix this.

“I know you’re a flower,” You explain. He flinches at your words. You said the wrong thing, like always dammit. “Or you seem to be,” You try again; he is not reacting time and you are not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. “I mean, are there others like you?” It takes a moment for him to respond. 

“Not. . . . really,” His smile wavers. This is a delicate situation and you can’t seem to keep your mouth shut. 

“Are you alone?” This question causes his smile to vanish. “Or not alone, really.” You need to fix this; instead you ramble like the idiot you are. “Is there anyone in this area that is like you in the sense that they can talk when usually they don’t. Like maybe there are other flowers-people who seem to be flowers or talking airplanes or something with sentience that usually doesn’t. Not that’s a bad thing, but it is uncommon from where I come from and I don’t know where I am but maybe that’s a regular thing here. I don’t know I just woke up in a pile of flowers that may or may not have been your family in which I am sorry because I didn’t mean to hurt your family or what may have been your family because they looked like you, but didn’t talk, which I hope that doesn’t mean that I killed them because that would be horrible and there is no way I could ever hope to pay for killing the ones you love or something that didn’t really sound right dear god I am sorry were those flowers your family?”

“No,” Flowey’s face is blank, “My family is not flowers.” 

 

“Good,” You say before you realize that was probably the wrong thing to say. “I mean it isn’t good that your family isn’t flowers or that the flowers that I landed on weren’t your family. I - I’m just glad I didn’t kill anyone special to you like your family. Losing your family would be awful.” Sadness creeps into Flowey’s features. You desperately want to know what you are doing wrong. “Did I say something wrong?” You should have asked that earlier. It takes him a moment to respond.

“What are you after?” His question surprises you. You sit there blinking stupidly at him.

“I’m. . . . . trying to get out?” You words come out as a another question rather than an answer. “I don’t know what you mean.” He looks irritated now. He remains silent for a few moments before a smile returns to his face, but this time, it looks like he is purposefully making his smile as fake as possible. You don’t know what you did to cause these mood changes, but you’re not sure if you want to help this time.

“Well then friend,” Flowey speaks with a sarcastic sweetness. “Let me tell you about what’s going on so you can get the hell out.” You flinch at his words and scoot away from him. You don’t get very far before you bump into something. You turn your head to see a wall of sorts forming behind you. It shoots to your left and right before taking a sharp turn, shooting forward, and taking another sharp turn to connect. The end result is a translucent, white barrier squared around you and Flowey. You give it an experimental push, the barrier is thick and doesn’t budge. 

“What is-,” You stop talking when you feel something struggling to emerge from your body. The sensation is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. A red heart surges out of your chest, causing your body to spasm involuntarily. It feels as though your most of your energy has been torn from your body to create this heart which, despite not being connected to your body, you can feel in a sense. The best way to describe what you are experiencing is like living a double existence. You don’t have much time to contemplate your situation before some type of projectile shoots right past it. You eyes snap up to see more rapidly approaching you. You scramble to the side in order to dodge them. 

“In this world,” Flowey icily explains, “It is killed or be killed.” White spinning pellets to form around his form out of thin air. “The world is cutthroat and there is nothing that can solve it and I am not not - ,” You dodge a pellet that shoots forward, “- going to let some human girl who lacks the determination to effectively separate her soul from her body-”

“This is my soul?!?!”

“- Talk to me,” Flowey continues, ignoring you, “Like everything is going to be alright.” He seethes out the last word before bombarding with dozens of pellets. You try to dodge them all, but some still manage to rip into your soul and body. The damage to your body and soul leaves you shaking in pain. A sob escapes your throat as you fall to your hands and knees. You don’t have the strength to stand, but there is still hope. Your mouth got you into this mess, maybe it’ll get you out. 

“What can I do to make it alright,” You strain out. Flowey’s attacks cease immediately. “That’s what my Uncle used to ask me when things got bad.” You manage to shift your body so you can sit down before your arms give out. “Sometimes he would be able to do what I asked, but most of the time-” You scoot backwards with a groan to rest your back against the barrier. “-Most of the time he couldn’t fulfill my wishes, or I didn’t have an answer to his question. In cases like that, he would do little things that would eventually make things better.” Flowey’s expression loses all it’s malice, instead he looks. . . .

He looks tired.

“You really want to help,” Flowey mutters as the pellets disappear. You smile earnestly at him, causing a look of grief and guilt to pass over his features. “Then kill me.” Your smile vanishes.

“Why?” You ask in disbelief. 

“Because I’m tired,” Flowey snaps. “I’ve watched those I used to love lose their minds from suffering. Half the people around here is just waiting to die while the other half is just waiting to kill the others. Tell me can you make that alright?” You don’t have an answer. What type of place is this? Is it really as bad as he says it is? You recall viewing war torn countries on the news. Starving families fighting over the last bit of food, shootings, murder, so much pain and suffering. How do you even start in those situations? “Well?” Flowey’s voice interrupts your thoughts. 

Little things.

Lacking the strength to walk, you cautiously crawl towards him on your hands and knees. 

“Will pulling you out of the ground kill you?” You ask as you approach. 

“I have to be completely without soil and water for a long time for that to kill me and I don’t want to die by myself,” Flowey answers, resigned to his fate. “It would be quicker if you crushed me or cut my stem.” As you crawl into the flower bed in order to sit in front of him, the barrier disappears and your soul merges back into your body. “So are you going to do it?” 

“Give me a moment,” You tell him as you begin to dig around his stem, as a result, Flowey’s face becomes pained.

“Your going to let me slowly die,” He whimpers. “I shouldn’t have expected otherwise, all of you humans are the same.” Despite his words, he does not make any move to stop you. After a few minutes, you have successfully removed Flowey from the ground, roots and all. You gently set him on your lap before reaching to your chest to unbutton the top of the front pocket of your overalls. You begin to dump a decent amount of dirt into the pocket.

“What are you doing?” Flowey asks as you pick him up again.

“You said you would die without soil,” With those words, you gently slid his bottom half into your pocket. After you made sure he was secure, you placed more soil inside of the pocket in order to cover his roots. 

“What the hell are you doing,” Flowey asks again as you shakily stand up. 

“I don’t know what to do for you,” You explain. “So I just have to start with little things. First one being a companion to help you with whatever you are going through.” Flowey’s turns to face you as his expression morphs into a grimace.

“So your solution is to kidnap me,” He asks incredulously as you begin to limp towards the tunnel opposite from where you arrived. 

“Yes,” You reply bluntly, which stuns him. “Mainly to make sure you survive.”

“Any other reason?” He asks scathingly.

“I’m kinda like you,” You answer, causing him to scoff. 

“Truly.”

“I’m lonely,” You explain honestly. “I want to find some inner peace, and if I fail, I don’t want to die alone.” Flowey is silent so you continue forward through the tunnel. It isn’t until your weak legs crumple beneath you that he finally speaks.

“You need to eat something,” He comments. You wonder what that could possibly do, but you guess it won’t hurt.

“Any suggestions then?” You ask as you try to stand up again. You use the walls of the tunnel to support yourself as you move forward. 

“There should be something you can eat up ahead,” Flowey instructs. “I don’t believe it will poison you, but I’ve been wrong before.” This guy is funny. The tunnel leads you into another room, that looks to be another entryway to some type of ruins. “Underneath the rose petals,” Flowey explains. “There’s fruit growing.” You limp, then collapse into the petals. You brush the flora aside and, low and behold, there’s fruit. You pluck the fruit from the ground and examine it. It looks like a yellow turnip with a blue stripe painted across it.

“Is this fruit or a vegetable?” You ask Flowey as you give it an experimental sniff. Smells like oranges. What?

“Are you going to eat it or not?” Flowey asks snippily. You shrug and take a bite. Tastes like apples. Again, What? You chew the questionable fruit/vegetable and swallow. 

Nothing goes down your throat. 

You stare at the turnip/orange/apple and try again. Still nothing. 

“You feel better?” Flowey asks as he twists his stem to face you. You actually do feel a little better, but you’re still confused.

“Why can’t I swallow this?” You ask before you take another bite.

“Monster food transfers straight into energy,” Flowey explains, causing you to stop.

“Monster?” You ask, eyes wide.

“Yeah,” Flowey rests his head on your shoulder. “Monsters live here.” You start to shake.

“Are they hurting the people,” You ask nervously. 

“They are the people.” 

“Oh.” 

…..

“So are you a flower monster?”

“. . . . Yes,” He answers reluctantly.

“Monster living underground,” You take a bite from the vegefruit. “That’s cool.”

“We used to live on the surface, though,” Flowey comments. This interests you.

“Really?”

“Thousands of years ago,” Flowey starts as you pull out another vegefruit. “Humans waged war on us.”

“Why?”

“Because they were afraid,” Flowey sighs. “Monsters have the ability to absorb human souls to become stronger. The humans didn’t want to risk it, even if we were peaceful. So they fought us, we lost, so we were sealed underground with a magical barrier.” You chew your food, digesting his words. “So yeah, humans are assholes.” You blink and turn to him. He sneers at you in return.

“You must be really lonely then,” you say. Flowey’s eyes scrunch in confusion.

“What?”

“You’d have to be lonely,” you explain, “In order to open up to this human asshole.”

“What makes you say that?” He asks in disbelief. 

“The dude who tried to kill me strikes up a conversation.”

“To tell you how much your kind sucks.”

“Then he shows me food.”

“Which could be poisonous.”

“Is it?” You smiled at him. Flowey glares at you. You grin widely back, which takes him by surprise. “You want to know what I think?” you say breezily.

“I don’t want to know what you think.”

“I think we should be friends.”

“No.”

“It may start out one sided.”

“I don’t want this.”

“But you will accept me.”

“I hate you.”

You don’t answer; instead, you pet his petals. He shakes slightly before stretching his stem to where his head towers over yours.

“Do not pet me,” he warns, “And stop smiling.” You nod and continue eating your fake turnip. After a few moments of silence, Flowey retracts his stem back to where he is under your chin. 

“It is nice to have a friend again,” you admit. You gaze sweeps across the room in fascination. You didn’t realize this earlier, but the cave is purple. How strange.

“What’s your name kid?” Flowey asks. 

Kid?

“Frisk,” you answer. “Frisk and Flowey friends forever,” you tease.

Suddenly a white barrier surrounds you and your soul pops out of your chest. The sensation leaves you dizzy for a few moments. This double existence nonsense is confusing.

“I’m sorry,” you say as you stand up, surprising yourself with how much energy you have regained. “I’ll stop bothering you.”

“That wasn’t me,” Flowey informed. Without warning, a white shape shoots forward. Your dodge the projectile by rolling to the side. “Damn Froggits.”

“Frogs?” You ask in bewilderment as look around. Sure enough, there’s a white frog the size of a large cat sitting on the barrier glaring at you. 

“Ribbit,” it croaks, “Hungry ribbit.”

“Froggit,” Flowey corrects you. “You need to fight it.”

“But it’s so cute,” you protest. The Froggit stops glaring at you.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s cute,” Flowey argued, “It’s trying to kill you.”

“Maybe it can see reason,” you defend the Froggit. You cannot attack this Froggit, it is too cute. “Besides, it says it’s hungry, let’s share the turnips.”

“Those are kitberries,” Flowey corrects you again. 

For the third time, what?

“Would you like some food cutie?” you ask the Froggit sweetly. The Froggit loses all hostility and blushes. Oh that is so sweet. You bend over, brush aside some petals and pull out another turnip. “Here sweetheart.” The Froggit does not approach, so you roll it over to him. The Froggit slinks over to the turnip and with a flick of his tongue, the fruit is gone. “Wasn’t that good?” You ask the Froggit with a small smile. The Froggit examines you warily.

“Ribbit,” it croaks, “Sweetheart Ribbit?”

“Yes,” you nod, “you are a sweetheart.” The Froggit blushes again. The barrier slowly dissolves and you soul returns to your chest. The Froggit gives you another long look before hopping away. 

“That doesn’t happen,” Flowey says, stunned. 

“What doesn’t?” you ask as you gather more turnips and store them in your pockets.

“Whatever you just did,” Flowey explains. “It doesn’t happen. It should never happen. How did that happen?” 

“He was hungry,” you explain as you stand up straight and walk up the stairs. 

“More are going to come and bother us,” Flowey groans. “They’ll want food.”

“Then we’ll give them food.”

“We’re going to run out.”

“Then we’ll find more.”

Flowey squints skeptically at you before sighing in defeat.

“You won’t be able to talk to all of them.”

“Who says?”

“Trust me,” Flowey urges. “If you don’t want to fight, at least flee when I tell you.”

“How do I get out of the barrier though?” You ask as you enter another room with a sealed door. You try to open it, but to no avail.

“If you run fast enough you can break through,” He instructs. “Also, you have to solve the puzzle.” 

“What puzzle?” you look around.

“The sign,” He drones. “Read the sign.” You do so. . . . 

“Well,” he urges impatiently. 

“I think,” you step on a stone.

“Not that one,” Flowey snaps. “Read the riddle are you stupid?”

“Yes,” you answer honestly. “Okay so it it like this.” You try again and the door opens. 

“If you can’t solve that I’m not sure if your going to survive long.”

“That’s why I have you.”

“Shit.”


	2. Kitberries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry, I know this update is too late to be reasonable and it's not even that good.
> 
> I will accept any and all anger in the comments.
> 
> Be reasonable though, no low blows about my Mama and/or dog

Despite your best efforts, you are absolutely horrible at puzzles. Absolutely awful. Thankfully, Flowey is here to help you in his own vexed way. Like now, as you both try to pass this spike puzzle.

“So I step here?” You ask as you inch forward.

“No don’t step-”

Too late, your foot connects to the spikes and now you are in pain. It doesn’t pierce your foot, but the feeling is still oddly akin to stepping on a lego.

“What did I just say?” Flowey snaps with with a snarl.

“I don’t understand your directions,” You admit as you rub your foot, “It would help if you didn’t try to point with your face.”

“I have nothing else to point with,” He argues, “Can’t you ask for confirmation before shoving your feet forward?”

“Didn’t you just say the one I pointed to was the right one?”

“You weren’t pointing at that one your pointing at the other- you know what?”

“. . . What?”

“There’s a moat over there,” Flowey gestures with his face, again, “Jump in and swim.”

“I am wearing overalls,” You counter, “They’ll never dry ou-”

“Swim.”

Feeling as though there isn’t much of a choice, you do as he says. At least the water isn’t freezing. You paddle over to the other side and haul yourself onto the small bridge.

“Well,” You groan, “I’ve gone through worse.”

“Oh no,” Someone whimpers. Your head shoots up in surprise as a barrier surrounds you and your soul pops out. Across from you stands a small creature with watery eyes and wings. It gives a loud sniff before approaching you meekly. “H-hungry.”

“Hey there,” you whisper softly. “Are you-”

“Waaah,” the creature wails before sobbing excessively and flying away. The barrier disappears and your soul returns.

Well then.

“Why did I do?” You ask Flowey. “Why did the ghost butterfly run away?”

“Whimsun,” He corrects you with a bored expression, “They always do that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them not crying.”

“That’s awful,” You mutter, “We should do something.”

“They’ve been sobbing for centuries,” Flowey protests, “Nothing’s going to change this time.”

“We should feed them then,” You say as you stand up.

“No we need that food,” He argues, though you ignore him.

“Come back ghost butterfly-” You call as jog in the direction it ran, your wet shoes squelching with every step.

“Whimsun.”

“I’ve got some turnips for you!” 

“Kitberries!”

“It’s going to be okay,” You arrive in a long hallway. You don’t get far before another barrier comes up and your soul pops out. “Why does this keep on happening?”

“It’s combat,” Flowey explains. “This is how monsters use magic to fight.” You dodge right to avoid a Froggit jumping at you.

“Why is my soul out of my body then?” You yell as you run away from a mass quantity of flies, moths, and cockroaches that appear out of nowhere.

“The soul is the only human part that is magic,” He yells back before a Froggit rams into you, effectively knocking you on your back. The Froggit sits on your stomach and stares at you.

“Hungry,” It croaks.

“Oh,” you sit up, causing the Froggit to hop off of you. “You want a turnip.”

“Kitberry.” Flowey groans as he stretches as far away from the Froggit as possible. More monsters approach from behind the Froggit.

“H-hungry,” a few Whimsun mutter together. More Froggits approach and say the same. They are all trembling in fear of you, but you can see the tiniest glimmer of hope in their eyes that melts your heart.

Then this roach crawls over.

“Feed me single minded swine,” It demands. Well that is an interesting insult. You roll your eyes at it and pull out the turnips crammed in your pockets.

“Here,” you set some in front of the Froggits first. The Froggits gobble up the food instantly. When you set one in front of the Whimsun, the roach steals it, causing the Whimsun to cry. “Don’t!” You snap at it while snatching the turnip back. “You wait your turn.” You slowly hand the turnip to each Whimsun before handing one to the roach. Now that everyone is eating, the combat zone slowly fades away along with your soul.

“Do you even have any food left?” Flowey asks you irritably.

“Haha,” you laugh nervously, “No.” Flowey lets out a growl in frustration.

“There’s more food up ahead,” Flowey grumbles. “Stop feeding them. It won’t make a difference, they’ll be hungry again after we leave.” You digest his words.

“Why are they so hungry?” You ask him as you watch a Whimsun nibble their turnip.

“Because of those greedy spiders and that sadistic ghost,” He answers as he slides further down into your pocket. “The spiders raid every bit of food found down here to sell. The only food they don’t touch are the ones that grow under the red petals where this ghost sometimes hides and. . .” Flowey cuts off his words with a sigh. “Let’s just say that the only ones in the ruins who aren’t scared of him are Toriel and me.” You think about the problem as you begin to walk down the ridiculously long hallway. Your overalls are still uncomfortably wet, but you ignore for now.

“Then we have three options,” You state, “We either get the spiders to stop taking the food, make the ghost leave, or convince Toriel to help feed the monsters.”

“Or the fourth option,” Flowey says with an over exaggerated smile. “We leave and let these weaklings deal with their own shit.”

“Fifth option,” You loudly announce with your very own exaggerated smile. “Flowey learns that maybe he doesn’t have to be such a jerk.”

“Sixth option,” His eyes narrow as he sneers, “The child learns to listen to the one whose actually lived here for centuries and knows what’s going on.”

“The seventh and final option,” You snap as you finally exit the long hallway. “The girl does what she wants while the only thing the flower can do is whine.”

“You put me in the ground and I’ll show you what I can do,” Flowey threatens. You snort as you walk over to a cluster of red petals to harvest the turnips.

“I’m sorry,” You apologize as you fill your pockets, “That was uncalled for.” Flowey grumbles but does not respond. You stand up and walk to the left-

“Wrong way.”

-to the right. What would you do without this Flower. It’s been a bit difficult, but with his help, things may turn out alright. You are filled with boundless optimism and determination as you continue onwards.

\-------

You want to pull your hair out.

Flowey wants to pull your hair out as well.

You spent a insane amount of time just falling through pitfalls before discovering the correct path to the next room. Then the rock. . .

Oh, that damn talking rock.

Would. Not. Move. Onto. The. Platform. 

It felt that would be a sign that it wasn’t its own person or something. After about twenty minutes of arguing with a rock, Flowey’s face had morphed into that of a devil. White lights appear from the black of his eyes and sharp teeth from from his lips. He began to threaten the rock in a satanic, raspy voice. That’s when you had decided to take over before someone got sent to hell. You explained to the rock, in detail, about how ( or at least how you think) cement was made. The rock moved. Now things are slightly less stressful in the world.

“That was fun,” You say as you cross over the spikes. You are a little calmer now that the rock has been dealt with. You smile at your companion, whose attention was currently elsewhere.

“Let’s just hope that rock remembers,” Flowey yells back as we cross the spikes, “That stone can be split by roots.”

“Shh,” You shush a wide eyed Flowey by putting your finger to his lips, “We have successfully terrorized the rock.” That is a sentence you never thought you would say. You walk at a steady past through the next room. “How did you make that face anyways?”

“Face?” Flowey asked, bored.

“Yeah,” You grin, “Do the face again.” Flowey becomes tense.

“I don’t want to,” He mutters. His eyes darken as the corners of his lips twitch downwards.

“C’mon,” You tease in good nature, “Do your creepy face.” Flowey’s body jolts violently. His eyes are wide with panic.

“No!” He yells at you causing your grin to vanish. “Do you get off of feeling good about yourself? Stop spouting stupid shit and just keep walking in silence. Do you understand?” Flowey stretches up to get up in your face. He narrows his eyes, but his still looks panicked. “Silence! You probably would do more good if you just stopped talking, since the only one who benefits from your nonsense words is yourself. So just SHUT UP!” Flowey pants as he glares you. Without a word he slinks down to hide his entire body in your front pocket, snapping the button shut as he does so. You stare at your pocket in shock. Your throat becomes tight as your eyes water.

You mutter an apology to the flower hidden in your front pocket and continue onwards.

Honestly, you are confused. You are unsure what you did to warrant that outburst, and you are unsure about the exact reason you are upset. Part of feels hurt by his words while the other part wonders if he is right. You are out of your element here.

Another part of you is wondering why you are such a wimp.

So what if he has done nothing but crush your happiness, belittle your intelligence, mock your mistakes, jeer at you choices, insult you every action, and he-okay so you’re going to cry in the shower later. But things will be okay, you know because. . . . because . . . . because. . . . . Okay so you got nothing. But surely things will get better-

“SKREEEEE!”

As soon as you step on another batch of red petals, a black shape shoots up and screams. You let out a horrified yodel as you fall back on you butt. The area changes and your soul pops out.

“What is going on?” Flowey yells in surprise as he pops out of your pocket. His eyes lock on the black shape that is now flying around as it laughs hysterically. “Oh nothing serious.”

“G-Ghost?” You sputter out after a moment.

“What gave it away?” Flowey asks sarcastically. The ghost floats down in front of you with a maniacal grin.The ghost is a translucent black with a red mouth and red eyes with red tears slowly sliding down his face. This guy’s metal.

But is he really a ghost?

“What’s this,” the ghost asks in a raspy voice, “Has the cursed flower been domesticated? You poor soul.” Flowey growls as you slowly stand up while wiping the dirt that clings to your wet back. “Oh sorry, if forgot that you don’t - what are you doing?” The now frowning ghost asks you.

You may or may not have stuck your hand through his body.

“You really are a ghost?” You ask in astonishment. The ghost quickly floats back a few feet.

“Wow,” He hisses with narrowed eyes, “Rude.”

“I’m sorry but that’s cool,” You guiltily admit with a grin. Flowey looks at you, betrayed. “I can’t touch you, but can you touch me?”

“. . . Yes,” He answers hesitantly before the grin returns to his face. “Which means you can’t kill me, but I can kill you.”

“Oh that’s good,” You tell him. Both Flowey and the ghost look at you in disbelief. “I don’t want to kill anyone.” You walk up to the ghost, who backs away slowly in return. “Are you the ghost that scares everyone away from eating the turnips?”

“Kitberries,” Flowey hisses.

“What of it?” The ghost asks.

“Can you,” You try to think of a persuasive way to phrase your request, “Can you maybe stop?”

Nailed it.

“Don’t tell me,” The ghost sneers. “You think that you’re helping by butting in.”

“I do,” You nod. The ghost blinks slowly at your response before letting out a bark of laughter. You feel a bit embarrassed by your simple response.

“This is gold,” He howls. “Do you think things are that easy or are you stupid?”

“She’s stupid,” Flowey answers for you. You take a deep breath in hopes of calming yourself. You don’t want to snap at those you are trying to help, but if someone calls you stupid one more time. . . .

“Must be,” The ghost smirks. You snap.

“Of course,” You raise your hands in the air. “How stupid of me. Who would think people have to sometimes intervene to make things better. That obviously never succeeds.”

“Of course it succeeds,” Flowey snarks, “Just with more competent people.”

“You’re right let’s find someone smarter to do this,” You snap as you put your hands on your hips. “There must be other people.” You whip your head towards the ghost who looks at you with a bemused expression. “Oh, that’s right!” You gasp dramatically. “There is no one else.”

“Who are you to try to fix our problems?” The ghost scoffs.

“Oh I’m sorry,” You put your hands to your chest. “I didn’t realize I needed a badge of honor to help people. Silly me. Forgetting I’m not worthy to help those who ask for it.”

“It’s not about being worthy,” The ghost slowly floats towards you menacingly. “It’s about you forcing your belief of what’s right down our throats.”

“You’re the only one against it,” You poke through the ghost’s chest, forgetting he’s intangible. “Because if you stopped or, even worse, helped, you would have to find another sick hobby to pass the time.”

“Well you need-”

“Shut up!” Flowey snaps, stretching out of your pocket to face you. “Both of you shut up. No one cares about each other and-you know what? Forget it.” Flowey stops to turn to the ghost. “Napstablook, just give up.”

“Excuse me?” The ghost, Napstablook, asks incredulously.

“She’s not going to back down,” Flowey sighs as he slinks back into your pocket. “So stop scaring the crap out of people just because you’re lonely.” You feel a bit of joy bubbling in your chest. Flowey seems to be warming up to you enough to help. “We will be here all day arguing. We have to move on and I don’t feel like dealing with you more than I have to.”

Oh, never mind.

“Who says I’m lonely,” Napstablook snickers.

“Because you’re willingly talking with us,” Flowey retorts. Napstablook’s smile does not leave his face, but it becomes strained. “Your cousin left you, so you decide the only way to interact with people is to terrorize them. Frisk is probably the first idiot who’s talked to you instead of screaming and running.”

“Why wouldn’t they talk to him?” You ask.

“Because he’s a ghost,” Flowey answers.

“I don’t understand,” You admit. “Are ghosts bad?” Napstablook stares at you in absolute shock. “Is it because people can’t touch you?”

“. . . . No,” Napstablook answers quietly.

“Is it because you can sneak in houses undetected?”

“No.”

“Is it because you cry blood?”

“No.”

“Is it-”

“IT’S BECAUSE WE’RE TRASH,” Napstablook howls as he suddenly appears in front of your face. “DIRT, SCUM, UNNATURAL, FREAKS, WE DON’T MATTER! WE NEVER DID. WE SHOULD ALL JUST DIE ALREADY!” Napstablook takes a deep breath and holds it before letting out a loud sob. The barrier around you dissolves as your heart returns to your chest. Bawling, Napstablook slowly sinks down and lays on the ground. He remains there crying for a few moments before Flowey speaks.

“You’re witnessing the life of a ghost,” Flowey mutters, his face blank. “Monsters fear them because they are mostly criminals, and they turn into criminals because people fear them.” Your chest tightens at the sight of Napstablook sobbing even louder. You reach out to console him before remembering you can’t touch him. You bite your lip in uncertainty.

“Maybe you can-” You start before Napstablook cuts you off.

“Shut up and go away,” He snarls. “I don’t want to talk.”

“I’ll stop talking,” You mutter, though it doesn’t feel right to just leave him. Unsure of what to do, you slowly lower yourself down to lay next to Napstablook.

“What are you doing?” Flowey asks critically. “Barrier’s down, and I don’t think the ghost is going to show his face for a while so we’re fine right?” You shake your head in response. “What then? Are we going to lay here and be trash with him?” You nod. Flowey groans before resting his head on you chest. “I give up do whatever you want.” So you did.

You lay there with both of them of a while. As time passes, Napstablook’s sobs fade into soft sniffles then silence. No one says a word for a long time.

— ——————————

“H-hungry,” someone whimpers behind you. Napstablook goes unnaturally stiff as you lift your head up to face the whimsun standing at the room’s entrance. “P-please.” It mutters softly. After noticing Napstablook; however, the whimsun lets out a squeak and runs away.

“Ghost butterfly,” You call out. You huff, stand up, and walk to the pile of petals Napstablook was hiding in earlier. You know there is dirt coating your damp back from lying down earlier, but you don’t care. You gather about an armful of turnips before returning to sit next to Napstablook who is watching you.

“No one’s going to come,” Flowey voices, “They’ll find you later once we leave.” You don’t answer Flowey; instead, you turn your attention to Napstablook.

“Have you hurt anyone?” You ask him. He seems to wilt at your question.

“Do you think I have?” He asks. You think for a moment.

“I have absolutely no idea,” You admit. “I’m not a always a good judge of character. One time I avoided the coffee shop for two months because I thought the cashier was the one who broke into my family’s house. It wasn’t, of course, I was just being paranoid.” You smile to yourself. “Turns out that the nice old lady next door broke into our house. I learned it takes a while to get to know someone; otherwise, you just have to hope that the person is nice.” Surprisingly, Napstablook looks relieved at my answer.

“I haven’t hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it,” He confesses. “I mainly just scare them away from most of the food.”

“You need to stop,” You tell him firmly. “Nothing gets better if you do this.”

“If it’s not me it’s the spiders,” Napstablook spat, “What’s the point?”

“Then just keep the spiders away,” You answer. You pick up one of the turnips off the floor and toss it through the door. “Come out ghost butterfly! Napstablook is willing to share his turnips.”

“Kitberries!” Flowey harshly corrects.

“I know what you are trying to do and it’s not going to work,” Napstablook mutters.

“Why not?” You ask as you throw another turnip down the hall.

“Do you honestly expect them to quickly forgive him after he terrorized them so long?” Flowey asks pointedly. Your arm halts in mid throw. You dwell on his words for a moment.

“That wouldn’t be right,” You admit, “Expecting them to forgive and forget so quickly.” You sigh as you drop the turnip to the ground. “That type of thing takes time.” You groan, you sit in silence for a moment before Napstablook speaks.

“I’ve been wondering,” He starts, “Why are you all wet?” You and Flowey answer at the same time.

“Because Flowey is an impatient jerk.”

“Because Frisk is clueless.”

You glare at Flowey who looks back at you cooly.

“Sounds like we all got problems,” Napstablook laughs drily. You study him for a moment before speaking.

“Would you like to come with us?” You ask him. Napstablook’s eyes widen in surprise and Flowey chokes on air

“No!” Flowey growls, “He is not coming and that is final!”

“I’m in need of someone patient to help me get through the area,” You continue; ignoring Flowey. “It would mean a lot if you could help.” You happily grin at him; Napstablook remains silent though.

“No,” Flowey repeats. “He can’t come. He’s not coming.” You open your mouth to snap back at him, but Napstablook speaks first.

“Yeah no,” He rasps as he floats up from his place on the ground. “I’d rather not have to deal with you two longer than I have to.” He floats over to the wall of the tunnel. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep the spiders away, so don’t lose your mind.” You smile and thank him. His only response is a loud grunt before he floats into the cave wall.

“What an absolute waste of time,” Flowey emphasizes each word. You smile and pat him on the head.

“Thank you too,” You tell him.

“I didn’t do anything,” He argues. You gather up the turnips in your arms and continue walking through the tunnel.

“You did more than enough,” You reply. He doesn’t answer.

You both continue through the cave; feeding froggits, whimsuns, and new monsters along the way. You fall through floors and solve puzzles. Flowey only swore four times and cursed your name twice during the pillar puzzle; you’re so proud of him. Sadly, it’s all fun and games until you wander into silent hill.

As you walk through the mist towards a dead tree, black as night, Flowey’s demeanor changes and he becomes quiet. His silence, added by the eerie atmosphere slowly fills you with trepidation. You want to ask him what’s wrong, but he speaks first.

“The woman in the house up ahead, Toriel,” He speaks slowly and softly, “First things first, do not tell her about me. Don’t ask why, you’re just going to have to trust me on this.” After a moment of contemplation, you nod in understanding and the relief that passes over his face does not escape your notice. “Second, she’ll want to keep you and she will not let you leave.” His tone makes you anxious. “Fighting your way out is absolutely out of the question; she may end up accidentally damaging you.”

“Damage?” You whisper hoarsely.

“Last child that fell down was blinded before being killed by one of the royal guards.” You feel a slight chill in your spine from his nonchalant tone of voice, but you ignore it.

“Blinded?” You ask in disbelief, “What a horrible-”

“She’s not!” Flowey loudly interrupts with a surprising amount of emotion in his voice. “She’s . . . .” He trails off, looking lost for a moment, before regaining his composure. “She’s just so unbalanced and don’t-” Flowey cuts you as you open your mouth to comment, “-think you can help her; not yet anyway. You can't help a broken person in a broken environment; it's counterproductive." You want to agree with him, but something's not adding up.

"I'm finding this hard to believe," You tell him. He becomes irritated almost instantaneously.

"And why is that?" He asks icily.

"Didn't you say the same thing for the whimsuns and Napstablook?" You point out.

"Yeah but you didn't really help them," He argues, "After a while things will revert back to normal."

"Then I'll come back every once in a while."

"Okay you're missing my point," Flowey says impatiently, "The problems are still there, are they not?"

"Yeah but-"

"Are. They. Not?" He presses.

"They're better than they were before," You cross your arms. 

"God-Okay let me explain it for you," Flowey stretches out his stalk to slightly tower over you, "Ghosts are still going to be treated like criminals and the other monsters will still fight over food; that hasn't changed. Why don't you get it? It's like-like," You feel his roots shift in your pocket and you shiver in response. "Like-like me!" An epiphany seems to hit him. "Or like the flower part of me, if I was sick and you pulled me out of bad soil and fixed me up, I would only get better if you put me back in better soil. You get it?" He looks at you expectantly and as much as you hate to admit it, you realize he's right. Your shoulders sag in defeat and you suddenly feel very tired.

"I just abandon them then?" You ask quietly as you nudge a tree root with your toe.

"Yes."

Really, why did you hope for a different answer?

"Fine, I'll take your advice," You say with conviction, "And ignore it at the same time."

"I don't know why I even bother trying to help," Flowey grumbles as he fully slides into your front pocket. You snap the flap closed as you walk towards the house in front of you. "If you want to get on her good side, give her some of your turnips; she'll probably use them to make a pie." You let out a loud and dramatic sigh.

"Flowey," You whisper, "How many times do I have to tell you that they're called kitberries." You snicker at his angry sputtering as you knock on the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am working on the next chapter I am.
> 
> Also, Feel free to comment about any mistakes or anything you see wrong 
> 
> Because you need my permission to critique me work *Flips hair dramatically*


	3. That's not my name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have absolutely no excuse for not updating except for that I am lazy.
> 
> So very lazy.
> 
> And I don't realize how much time has past until months and months have gone by.
> 
> Feel free to critique, comment, or share concerns. 
> 
> Because you obviously need my permission *Primadonna Hair Flip*
> 
> I don't own undertale.

You rock back and forth anxiously on your heels as you wait for Toriel to open the door. You consider knocking a second time before the door swings open revealing………… Toriel?

She's…... um...... Goat?

Well, she does have horns, white fur, and a snout; all very goat like traits. There’s a bit of a difference between her and the goats at the petting zoo though. Like how she’s six feet tall and is standing on two legs. She’s also wearing clothes; a black robe, all covered in patches and tears, with a red rune on the front and white sleeves covering her arms. She still looks like a goat though. What’s next, a talking dog?

"Oh my,” Toriel whispers before showing her fangs in a shaky grin, “You must have fallen after I checked, I’m sorry.” She kneels and holds a hand out to you cautiously, like you would be the one to attack her. It is at this point that you pay a bit more attention to her eyes. Her sclera is yellow, her irises are red, and she has bags under her eyes, but what unnerves you the most is how unsteady her eyes are. Her eyes seem unable to focus on you, instead flickering around in different directions, seeing everything but not really taking in information. “My name is Toriel. What’s yours?”  
“My name is Frisk,” You respond cheerfully as you slowly take her trembling hand and shake it, “I’m sorry to bother you Toriel, but I…….” Why are you going into her house again? “I’m lost Toriel; do you know the way out?”

Her grin doesn’t disappear, but her body twitches. “Yes,” Toriel says after a moment of silence, “Yes, you’ll need to eat, yes.” With that she grabs your hand and jerks you into her home with a surprising amount of strength. You trip over nice oak flooring as she drags you to a light tan table and forces you in a chair. “You wait here child, while I find you something to eat.” She scurries into what you assume to be the kitchen. You sit there for a moment before you decide to wait a bit before taking any action. At least the room is warm thanks to-oh that’s a fireplace. You watch the flames crackle menacingly before deciding that you would rather be cold. Toriel comes back into the room in daze. She doesn’t seem to see you.

“Toriel?” You call out softly, causing her to snap her to snap to attention. “Are you okay?”

Her eyes waver a bit before she smiles. “Hello child,” Toriel says softly, “I didn’t see you come in.”

You are unsure what to think.

“You must have fallen after I checked, I’m sorry.” She slowly approaches you. Her next words fill you with dread. “My name’s Toriel. What’s yours?”

“Don’t you remember?” You ask; hoping to jog her memory. “You let me in and you were going to cook something?” Toriel tilts her head in confusion and it’s at that moment that you realize that you are way over your head.

“My name is Frisk,” You decide to roll with it, “I’m sorry for intruding; I’m just a little lost. Do you know how to get out of these ruins?” She stares at you for a few moments before smiling.

“Of course child,” She nods, “Of course let me just get you a map.” She goes to the bookshelf and starts browsing. After a few moments she pulls out a phone and stares at it. She turns around and jumps a bit when she sees you.

“Are you okay?” You ask. Her face remains blank for but a moment before she snarls and her face becomes murderous.

“HOW DARE YOU BREAK INTO MY HOME!” She yells as she marches towards you. The temperature seems to skyrocket with every step she takes.

“I’m sorry,” You whimper, “I didn’t mean to intrude. I just-” The room feels like it’s on fire, it must be on fire, it’s so hot-it’s so very hot. Is this how you go? Is this all the time you-

“Oh I remember now,” Toriel exclaims and the temperature slowly drops back to how it was originally. Reaching out, she grabs your shaking hands and places the cellphone in them. “I’m so sorry I forgot to give this to you Alex; it completely slipped my mind. Now you can call me whenever I’m out. Thank you for being so patient with me.” You nod and slowly stand up.

“Thank you very much,” Your voice is hoarse, but you don’t particularly care at this moment. “I’ll just be leaving-” Toriel interrupts you before you can finish.

“It’s not safe out there,” She snaps, “You may be a brave child, Jess, but I will not allow you to run into danger so recklessly again. What you need is to rest.” She grabs your hand and pulls you out of the living room, through the main room, and into a hallway.

“Weren’t you cooking something,” You remind her as she pushes you into one of the rooms. She pauses for just a moment before slamming the door.  
“If you were hungry you could have just asked,” She snaps harshly through the door before stomping away.

You stand there alone in a cozy red room before trudging over to the bed and sitting on it. “Will she kill me if I try to sleep?” You whisper to Flowey. He doesn’t respond or make any type of movement signifying he heard you. You sigh and lay down on the bed after removing your damp shoes and socks. You decide you’ll just close your eyes for a moment. Or at least that’s what you think before the door slams open revealing Toriel holding a piece of pie on a plate. When her eyes land on you she seems surprised to see you.

“Hello child,” She whispers, “I didn’t realize you were here. It’s alright though, I made some pie.” She shuffles over and hands you the pie. You believe it looks good until you see some slight movement under the crust. You decide not to eat the pie.

“Hello,” You tell her again, “I’m sorry for intruding. My name’s Frisk what’s yours.” She frowns at your statement and sits down on the bed next to you.

“I told you my name,” She says, “It’s Toriel. Did you forget already?”

Well then.

“I’m sorry Toriel,” You say as poke the pie. The pie pokes you back. “I’m tend to get forgetful.” Hah. “But I was wondering if you could tell me-” a loud sniff from Toriel interrupts you. Her lip trembles as tears fall down her cheeks; this causes you to panic. “Are you alright Toriel?” She bends over, covers her eyes, and weeps. Unsure of what to do, you rub small circles on her back. She cries for a few minutes before speaking.

“They all died,” She whimpers between sobs.

“I’m sorry?”

“All those children,” She hiccups, “Laid down in this bed and died one by one. I tried to warn them.” She whines softly. “I couldn’t save them.”

“I’m sorry-”

“But you,” She grabs ahold of your arm and squeezes tightly. “You don’t have to leave. You can stay.” You feel bruises forming under her fingers.

“I can’t,” You tell her. This was the wrong thing to say. Suddenly you are surrounded by fire and all you can feel is your blood turn to ice as your heart exits your chest.

“Will it be different if I do this on purpose?” She asks herself. “If you die by my own hands, will it hurt less? You have always been kind to me Skylar. Will you let me do this?” You want to run, but just like before your legs won’t move. It isn’t until a vine comes up from your pocket and sharply tugs your hair towards the door do you shove Toriel away and run. You break through the barrier with minor difficulty before sprinting out of the room and down the hall. You hear Toriel’s wails of misery, pleading for you to come back, but you pay it no mind.

“Down the stairs,” You hear Flowey hiss from inside your pocket. You follow his instructions and leap over the railing before quickly descending the carpeted stairs. Your foot misses the last few steps and you crash painfully on your face. You feel warm liquid trickle out of your nose as you stand back up and run. For a moment the only thing that can be heard in the tunnel is the smacking of your bare feet on the stone floor. As you get near a turn, you hear a thunderous explosion from behind you. You feel the heat lick at your heels as you run faster around the turn. You arrive in a clearing with a set of large doors on the other side of the room. You run up to the doors and push and pull before realizing that they’re locked.

“What do I do?” You ask, voice nasally from the blood overflowing from your nostrils. Flowey peaks his head out and examines the scene. Two thin vines sneak out of your pocket and into the keyhole to rummage around with the lock mechanisms. You wish you could say that you are patient, but instead you plead desperately for him to hurry because you do not want to be burned alive. Anything but that. It starts getting warmer and all you can think about is the smell of wood burning and the flames licking your skin. You are vaguely aware that the barrier surrounds you once more and your soul pops out.

“Why did your run?” A small voice whispers behind you. “Leaving me all alone. Where is the integrity in leaving me all alone, Ash? I don’t want to be alone.”

“There..” You continue to face the door. You feel the sweat drip down to your brow as you take a deep breath. “Th-there are people who need me elsewhere. They need my help.”

“I NEEDED YOUR HELP!” Toriel howls, unleashing a wave of fire around the room that causes you to press your soul against the door in order to escape the heat. “I NEEDED YOUR HELP, MORGAN. DOES YOUR SENSE OF JUSTICE INCLUDE ABANDONING ME? WHY DIDN’T YOU STAY?”

You don’t know why she’s confusing you with all these other people, but maybe you should act the part.

“How can I help someone who kills kids?” You ask her. The air suddenly becomes very still. Even Flowey pauses in the middle of his fumbling with the lock.

“I have never hurt a child in my life,” Toriel hisses.

“Weren’t you going to hurt Frisk?”

“Frisk,” she mutters. “Frisk. Frisk. Frisk. Frisk. Frisk. . . . Who?”

“You don’t remember?” You are going to hell for this, “You killed her.”

“No.”

“She was terrified.”

“No.”

“You chased her down the halls.”

“No.”

“Tried to burn her alive.”

“No-no-no-no.”

“Watched her scream in pain.”

“STOP! STOP! STOP! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS? I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY I COULDN’T SAVE YOU! I TRIED TO HELP YOU! WHY DID YOU RUN AWAY? WHY DID YOU LEAVE US CHA-” You hear her choke before she goes silent. The temperature cools and the barrier drops. After a few seconds of silence, you turn your head to glance at her. She is blankly staring at the ground in front of her. Several moments pass before she raises her head to face you. Her eyes are glazed and she does not appear to be breathing. You hear the loud clack of the door unlocking, and her eyes snap back into focus. She seems to waver for a second before a smile spread across her face, causing her eyes to crinkle and her teeth to gleam. “Are you leaving again, Sam? I admire your perseverance in dealing the monsters and I won’t stop you, but try not to put yourself in too much danger. Have a nice trip.” Toriel waves and walks backs down the tunnel.

You watch, stunned, then yell that you’ll visit her soon. Like the idiot you are.

Toriel turns to you and smiles before continuing down the hall.

“Okay,” you whisper to yourself as you push the double doors open. A blast of cold air washes over you and another tunnel is revealed. “Okay, that wasn’t so bad.” You wrap your arms around yourself and slowly walk through the tunnel. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay-

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Flowey hisses as he slowly peeks out from your pouch. “The room was on fire and you just sat on your ass. Do you want to die?”

You look down at your bare feet as you walk down the cold tunnel before admitting, “I couldn’t move.”

“You can’t move? YOU can’t move? I’m trapped in your fucking pocket! If you don’t move, I die.” He grumbles to himself for a moment before frowning at you. “What do you even mean you couldn’t move? Don’t freak out when someone grabs you.”

“It’s not that,” you counter.

“What then? You scared of a little fire?”

“Yes,” you reply honestly while rubbing your arms as the tunnel becomes steadily colder.

Flowey looks at you blankly for a few moments before uttering a small, “What?”

“I suffer from encavmaphobia,” you tell him. In noticing that his blank expression remains, you add “the fear of getting burned. Stuff like fire, hot metal, boiling water, I sometimes get nervous when it’s too hot outside; however, only fire causes me to really panic.” His expression still does not change even after you poke his petals. Another gust of cold wind blows through the tunnel causing you to violently shiver. “Why is it so cold?”

“Fire,” Flowey mutters to himself in a daze. “Fire. She’s afraid of fire. She’s afraid of getting burned. She’s afraid of it becoming too hot.”

“Pardon?”

“Fire. Fire. Fire. FIRE!” Flowey suddenly yells, causing you to flinch. “What the hell do you mean you’re afraid of fire? Everything-EVERYTHING is fire! Everything burns! There are powerful monsters that can control fire. Some monsters are fire! There is a land covered with fire and lava! Even the damn fish manages to burn her house down twice a month. There is not-” He lets out a series of exasperated sounds before sinking down in defeat. He limply hangs from your pocket with his head down. “That’s it. We’re going to die. There’s no hope. None.”

“Well,” You say after a pause, “Maybe this is a sign for me to get over my fears. Maybe befriending these fire monsters will help me.”

“Maybe you’ll get burned alive.”

“Flowey!” Your voice come out more shrilly than you would have like. You clear your throat before resuming, “We’ll figure something out.” Yet another gust of cold air blows through the tunnel. “Why is it so cold though?”

“We’re about to enter Snowdin,” He says. “It’s always snowing.”

“Is there snow now?” You ask worriedly, feeling the chill from your damp outfit and bare feet.

“Always snowing,” Flowey repeats.

“Maybe I should go back and get a change of clothes,” You muse.

“Maybe fried human won’t smell as bad as it’ll look.”

“Maybe hypothermia isn’t so bad,” You say as you continue walking. You are finally able to see a white light at the end of the tunnel. “I will need to get a change of clothes if I’m going to survive though.”

Flowey appears to think for a moment before telling you that there’s a stand that probably has some extra clothes, as well as other items, that you can reach before your toes fall off. You thank him for his continued support and he growls at you.

“I’ll run there,” You decide as you near the exit. “Less time to be cold.”

“Fantastic,” Flowey huddles into your pouch, “Just go.”

You look outside the doorway. Flowey was right about the snow; there is about four inches on the ground. The path is miraculously clear and straightforward, but that did nothing to the nervous feeling you have building up in your stomach from the dark forest that rests on both sides of the path. You bounce back and forth on your toes before taking off through the doorway in a dead spri-ah-jeez-frick-damn-shit-cold-cold-cold-NO. You don’t have time to stop and whine. You continue running on the cold stone path towards your destination. You reach the bridge after a bit and decide to slow down since you don’t know how sturdy it is and you are lucky enough that your stomping will be the thing that takes it down. You take a few shaky steps on the bridge before letting out a sigh of relief. Looks like your luck hasn’t completely abandoned you. You take another step forward before someone roughly yanks the back of your sweater and throws you to the ground.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to ignore people?” Someone drawls.

Your head snaps up and you are about to give a really cool comeback before the words die in your throat.

He’s a skeleton.

You let out an incredulous bark of laughter before slapping your hand over your mouth and ow that jostled your sore nose. At least it doesn’t seem to bleeding anymore. His posture straightens as his eye sockets narrow at your outburst. At the same time, his grin immediately turns into a sneer filled with pointed teeth and a gold tooth that gleams menacingly. “Is there a problem?” He asks after a moment of your staring.

“No,” You lie and he puts his hands in his jacket pockets as his posture resumes the lazy slump he had before your outburst. You think he has relaxed until you see how cautiously the white pinpricks in his eye sockets follow your movements as you stand back up. Now that you are standing in you front of him, you can tell that he is about a foot shorter than you are. His height combined with his wide frame, thick black winter jacket, and black shorts gives him an overall stocky appearance.

“What’s your name kid?” he asks casually, tilting his head into the white fur that surrounds the hood on his jacket.

“Frisk,” You answer with a smile. He smiles back, but if feels fake.

“And your friend?”

At first you don’t know what he’s talking about, that is, until Flowey grumbles in your pocket.

“He’s just a little shy,” You tell him.

Sans chuckles a bit before pulling his hand out his pocket and stretching it out in an offer of a handshake. “Name’s Sans,” he says, “It’s nice to meet you.”

You smile grows wider and you reach to shake his. You can’t help but marvel at the feel of his bony fingers as you begin to clasp his hand and-you’re in pain.

You’re falling.

Sans let’s out a raspy howl of laughter as you crumple on the cold ground. Your limbs are jerky from the amount of electricity coursing through your body and you can’t seem to feel your body properly. You are aware what is happening around you, but you can’t seem to think straight.

“Now that’s funny,” Sans laughs as he shows you his hand. In the middle of his palm is a small device with a lightning bolt symbol in the middle. “Are you stupid? How do you even fall for something like this?” Red energy surrounds your body as you are lifted into the air. Your body is turned towards the sky as your limbs hand limply from your torso and your head lolls back to face the path behind. “And I got the weed too! Papyrus will be thrilled.” You start to want to know if Flowey is okay, but your voice won’t come, you can’t move, and all you can see is path behind you. Sans cackles as he walks forward with your body limply floating behind him. “Of course, that means I have to carry your body to him cuz his royal highness wants to kill you and deliver your soul to the king himself,” He growls to himself. “I don’t want-” a loud ring interrupts his dialogue. Sans groans and there is a sound of shuffling before something snaps open. “Papyrus, you won’t belie-What?...... No..... No, you don’t understand…… This is really…… I’ll be there.” There is a sound of something snapping shut as Sans swears harshly. He stands there for a few moments before quickly walking forward. “Congratulation,” he snarls. “You get to live a little bit longer.” After a few minutes of walking, you are harshly dropped into the snow. Bony fingers roughly grab your cheeks and your face is turned to face Sans.

You hear growling.

“Listen,” Sans whispers, “You move; you get killed.” He turns your face towards what looks like a metal dog house. Sans lets go of your face and walks a good distance off to the side of the dog house. Suddenly, in a flash or red, a bone materializes out of thin air to his right. The bone hovers for a moment before shooting forward and slamming against the metal exterior with a loud clang. You hear vicious snarling come from inside the doghouse before a big black and white husky comes charging out into the open. At least, you think it’s a husky, until he hunches over on two legs and brandishes a knife in each hand.

He looks cold.

Despite the fur that coats his muscled body, you can see him violently shivering. Which makes sense, since he is only wearing leopard print shorts and a spiked collar that’s chained to the front of the shed. You can see fur missing and skin rubbed raw around the collar. 

Sans whistles, causing the dog to sharply turn his head in the skeleton’s direction and lunge. Before a barrier can completely form around the two, a bone smashes against the dog’s temple. You flinch as the dog collapses on ground with a whimper. 

“How many times do I have to tell you to stay outside?” Sans asks. “It’s simple. If you don’t stay outside, you can’t see anything. If you can’t see anything, you aren’t doing your guard duty. If you’re not doing guard duty, Papyrus get pissed. If Papyrus gets pissed, I get in trouble. If I get in trouble, you lose family visitation rights.” Sans tilts his head to the side and grins. “Don’t you want to see them?” At the dog’s nod, Sans’s expression darkens. “Then stay outside. Also, I’m leaving this girl with you. If she moves, attack.” With that, Sans turns around and vanishes in a flash. The dog remains lying on the ground for a few moments before letting out a snarl. He runs back to where the chain is connected to the shed. He claws, bites, and pulls the chain till his nails and gums bleed from the abuse. 

Something stirs in you.

This dog is bound, beaten, and freezing, yet he still fights back. He fights against those who bind him and he fights against his binds. You see the dog resist, despite being in what looks like a hopeless situation.

It fills you with determination.  
In the snow in front of the dog, something sparkles for a moment before disappearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Cries*
> 
> I still don't know how to properly format the text.
> 
> Also, I hate the title of this story, I want to change it. I don't know what to change it into, though, so I may just keep it.


End file.
